Bloodlover
by Ashes Of The Innocent
Summary: Drake loves bloodshed, everyone knows that. But he loves the blood that is shed so much... Rated T for violence. Kinda dark. Pre-FAYZ one-shot.


**~Blood lover**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Gone, Michael Grant does.**

**Warning: Pretty dark, and...VERY strange if you ask me. But that's just me *shrug*. Rated T definitely for the psychotic-ness of Drake. XD One-shot about one of Drake's deepest, darkest secrets.**

* * *

The dark: A soothing, obscure scene. A place where you could let the memories of anguish drift away into another world, and instead be filled with another type of agony – fear. Terror of the fact that anything could happen, you could die any time, you could be injured whenever fate wanted you to be. But it was a sort of enjoyable fear; it was that kind which would fill your veins with adrenaline, make you feel like in your own horror movie. That was where you could get that sick, excited sensation of what was going to happen next, who else was going to die in that movie; how much blood was going to be spilled.

And Drake Merwin knew that the beginning of his movie had just shed upon his dreary life.

Only dreary was the way he liked it – the way he wanted it to be. Dreary; such a nice word, he decided. Along with hate, dark, damned, hell, and his personal favorite – blood.

Blood was the thing which kept a human alive, but at the same time it was the thing which could kill them, by not being enough, by being lost. It was limited, but oh-so-beautiful – it was like the trust of a person. Limited, there, nice – but what was better was when the trust would simply disappear, leaving the person's friend torn, broken apart; lifeless. The salty, metal taste of it, smell of it, always called to Drake. He wasn't a vampire – he did not believe in such foolish, childish things – but blood was great, so incredible, as was the darkness, injuries, death, and loathing.

And now the scarlet sticky liquid dripped off his pocket-knife, so visible even in the stretch of darkness around the image of the forest. The tall trees covered the moon, a full moon, blocking the light, but Drake didn't need it. His gray eyes, for once not cold, but rather deathly, were on the blade, the crimson covering his vision.

A crack of a twig broke him out of his reverie. He glanced across the soft, wood-floor and smiled.

His snake, Sanguis, was back with another animal. This time it was an ugly rat, its eyes wide and blank and lifeless. Drake had named the snake "Sanguis" because he knew it meant blood in Latin. But there was a more significant meaning to the name. Sanguis would get him creatures of the forest, killed minutes before; rats, coyotes even, black widows, other spiders, other snakes, just so that he could examine their blood; feel their blood, enjoy it.

"Thank you," Drake whispered, getting his twisted smile on his face. The snake crawled up on his arm when he put his fist down, up to his shoulder. Drake stared with greed at the rat, his hand gripping the tilt of the knife so hard his knuckles were white. "You could though," he said to the snake, "get a live animal next time. Let me have the pleasure of killing it."

Sanguis hissed lowly and rested its slippery head on Drake's neck. The boy gave a dark chuckle and petted the snake on the head, his eyes temporarily off the dead thing in his right hand.

Drake then ran the blade of the knife along the rat's head, cutting it off completely. He could literally see its insides, but ignored everything apart from the crimson beauty awaiting him. Even rat blood, any type of blood, brought a pleasure to Drake. It was like his drug, he realized, this blood. His own personal drug, the fuel of his power; his own little secret.

The blade was now covered in the drug, the stench so amazing to Drake he felt like dying.

"Here you go," he murmured, putting his finger on the knife and raising it to the snake. The snake gave another hiss and Drake felt its tail lick his tip. "My little blood friend," he said, smiling at Sanguis. He knew his friend enjoyed blood just as much as he did, enjoying the smell of it.

"You know," Drake said thoughtfully, never breaking his gaze off the bloody knife, "I wonder how human blood would be – not mine, of course." He looked down at his arm were snake-teeth were marked on it. For some reason, when he'd first "met" Sanguis, its venom hadn't done anything to him. Sanguis had bitten him, and Drake had survived. He didn't know why and didn't even care – this had given him a new friend, a snake, and had given him the best thing ever.

When Sanguis hissed once again Drake could make out the words "_let's try then_" coming out. Drake smirked.

"Sure," he whispered.

* * *

The next day at the hellhole he was supposed to call a school, he found the perfect person to "experiment" on. Last night he had sneaked Sanguis in the house, without his parents' knowledge. He had hidden his beloved snake in a closest no one dared go through. And in the morning he'd put the snake in his backpack, ready for school.

"Where, where, where are you, Chip?" he murmured to himself, once he was in front of the school. Chip was a little, annoying brat, a year younger than Drake, in second grade.

_Wow, _said a dark voice in Drake's head, snickering, _the title is already clear in my mind – nine-year-old, third-grader killing his fellow second-grade classmate with a snake. Mom would love the publicity._

The bell rang and most kids ran to their classes, leaving Drake alone in the schoolyard. Chip usually came late, he remembered – the nerd would take his time.

Just as he thought this a heavy breathing was heard behind him, along with fast racing.

"Ah, the prey his here." Drake put his hand in the backpack and let Sanguis crawl up to his shoulder and hide in his shirt. He then turned round and smiled when he saw Chip, the fat kid, panting. "Hey, Chip, man."

Chip stopped, and looked surprised. Drake was usually mean to him, and now that he was talking to him brightly was quite weird. But Chip didn't give up on the opportunity.

"Hey, Drakey," he greeted him, his chubby face cracked in a grin. "You waited for me here?"

Drake nodded, keeping back a sinister smirk with difficulty. "Look, man," he said casually, shoving his hands in his pockets, "I need to show you something."

Chip's face lit up in excitement, but he said, "Class has started." Drake rolled his eyes, and wondered if Chip noticed – fortunately the stupid boy was as oblivious as ever. "Um, sure, why not?" he said quickly, and Drake nearly snickered at the goofy grin.

_Blood, _he mused, _a traitorous thing – as am I._

"Well, come on then." Chip nodded and both boys made their way in the school. The corridors were empty, to Drake's luck, and Chip's misfortune.

Drake spotted the janitor's room, and entered in it, knowing the janitor was someplace else. Chip stood outside though, staring confused.

"Um," he stuttered, "what – what are we doing here?"

"It's something special," Drake told him mysteriously. "I can't show anyone else." His words had an instant effect on Chip because he bit his lip as if to stop himself jumping with excitement.

_What an idiot._

Chip followed the sadist in, and closed the door, having before checked outside for any possible person there. In the meantime, Drake let Sanguis out of his shirt and on his arm. Thankfully the room was full with that mesmerizing darkness – but Drake didn't have time to waste. He had to finish the job.

When Chip turned around, the grin faded away so fast it was as if it wasn't there in the first place. The smirk Drake wore was so weird, so strange it sent shivers down his spine.

"So," he said, trying to hide his fear, but Drake could smell it in his blood, "what is it – what did you wanna show me?"

"My friend," whispered Drake, stroking the snake's head.

"Okay," Chip nodded, sweating with fear. "Where is – is he or she?"

"On your leg," Drake announced gleefully. The snake, without Chip's knowledge had crawled on his foot and was now reaching his thigh. Chip's eyes were so wide it was if they were going to burst out of their eye-sockets. Drake, immediately knowing that the other boy was going to scream, lunged forward and put his hand over his mouth, muffling the shout of terror, betrayal, and pain when the snake sank its fangs in his leg.

Chip stopped breathing – his eyes became just as inert as the rat's ones last night.

"Good, good snake," Drake said softly, lovingly to his snake as it went back to him, on its usual spot on his shoulder. Drake let go of Chip and stared greedily at his still body as it fell.

Oh, how much fun he was going to have seeing, feeling, smelling the blood of Chip Ladris, hearing the cries of his family, especially his older, witch of a sister, Diana.

* * *

**Thanks for reading, and if I made any mistakes, grammar or spelling or any OOC-ness (although I doubt it) then please tell me. Oh, and could anyone help me think of a better title and summary? I never was good at any of those...**

**Please review! :) And I'll send you your own blood sample of Di's bro. :P From this you can build your own thoughts about what I'm thinking. **

**~Trippy :D**


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